


Scent of Longing

by penombrelilas (crookedspoon)



Series: slashthedrabble [8]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Community: 100_prompts, Community: 31_days, Community: slashthedrabble, Community: writers_choice, M/M, Pining, Wordcount: 100-500
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-29
Updated: 2008-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-04 05:25:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1767130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/pseuds/penombrelilas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He missed Shiraishi, when they were apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scent of Longing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompts #191 " _Scent_ " from writers_choice and #03 " _Out Loud_ " from slashthedrabble, #93 " _Missing_ " from 100_prompts and Aug 29, 2008 " _The aftertaste is gonna break your heart_ " at 31_days.

His bed still smelt of Shiraishi. In fact, his whole apartment did. Yukimura could almost follow a trail where his scent permeated the air. A wispy mix of sandalwood and something surpringly clean, almost antiseptic, beneath a light veil of sweat. Under normal circumstances anything sanitized had a repellent effect on him, reminding him of those endless days spent in hospital, but on Shiraishi it was strangely soothing, if not alluring.

Yes, he missed him, his contrary remarks, their discussions, the fleeting scratch of stubble when they kissed in the morning, missed the agonizing slow way they made love. He would not admit it out loud, but love it was. How else could they get by with one another, if there wasn't at least some level of fondness and understanding? It was cheesy, and it was unmanly, not compatible with the uncaring self he had wanted to build up. What did he care? He could still keep up whatever image he liked on the outside, but he could not lie to himself.

He liked having Shiraishi around, being able to jump him at every available opportunity. They were young yet and should use their time. It should not be spent waiting and agonizing for the next touch, but what was there to do if they lived so far apart, each with their very own schedule to abide by?

Months would pass until they next saw each other. But Yukimura would not admit how much he pined for his lover.

At the very least, he could imagine Shiraishi to feel the same about them. He managed to make Yukimura believe he had a special place in his life, but just like him, he would never put his feelings into words. All the same, Yukimura could picture Shiraishi leaning back on his sofa, head buried in the sweater Yukimura had forgotten at Shiraishi's place in winter. Listening to symphonies by Brahms or Schumann, music Shiraishi likely would not listen to on his own accord. Yukimura had seen records of the composers in Shiraishi's collection only after he had introduced him.

Could he allow himself to dream he had bought them to remember Yukimura, to relive the short periods of time spent together?

In the same fashion he had gotten Shiraishi's aftershave, to recall the scent he had fallen asleep to, woken up to and still turned his head to on the streets?


End file.
